


some kind of truth

by orphan_account



Series: Orphanage Verse [4]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 4 of the Orphanage AU: Harry visits Voldemort. Ron finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some kind of truth

_July_

~*~

 

The walls were grey and smudged with dirt. Harry tried hard not to glance left and right as he passed the prisoners' cells. His business tonight was down the last hall, away from the noise of conversation that was still allowed in these parts. His business was in the furthest corner, an isolation cell that was padded and secured in ways only the best wizards could arrange.

Harry didn't feel bad about using the cell, but he did feel bad about the occasional memory losses one of the guards kept experiencing; he was a special brand of Muggle; once in a while, he overcame the distraction charm and then he was like a bee to the honey, compelled to check what was up with that cell.

There were, of course, Aurors stationed close by, just in case. They were working in pairs these days, not fours, and the ministry had long ago stopped sending top Aurors. It would have been a waste of manpower to let them guard an unmoving man, one chained so thoroughly and bereft of most his magical abilities.

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine when he passed through the final metal doors. It wasn't a shiver of fear. It came from the charm put upon the doors. He'd left everything he'd had on his person outside with one of the Aurors, and the detector wouldn't miss a single spark of magic, should he try to smuggle any magical object in. Then again, barely anyone was allowed to get this close, and only a chosen few knew what was going on in this up-and-running prison on the outskirts of Bicester in the midst of England, so the precautions seemed almost overly excessive.

There was a stir of anticipation in Harry's belly as he stepped closer to the glass wall that surrounded the cell, but not close enough to accidentally touch it. Touching the glass meant the spell on it would raise an alarm to the whole building and fry him to an inch of his life. On the other side of the glass, a man was sitting on on the bare floor, feet crossed, arms resting on his thighs in a gross parody of meditation.

Harry watched him for a while. This was the first time in a year he'd seen him. To his surprise, it wasn't, as he had expected, a whirlwind of emotions or even a surge of anger. Instead, he felt calm settle over him.

Then something in his mind tugged, like an invisible string, a probing touch that sent him reeling. He looked up, realizing he'd unfocused, and found himself staring into the green eyes of a boy, an illusion his brain conjured that was immediately replaced by the true image: red slits, a flat nose close to the skull, white as a golem.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort mouthed. Harry didn't hear a tone. They'd removed Voldemort's vocal cords with a surgical spell so that he wouldn't be able to form words of magic; not, that he was capable of magic anymore. Voldemort was weak. A simple Wingardium Leviosa was probably above him in his current state. However, one could never be careful enough. Harry had made sure they had thought of everything.

"I came," he said, and his voice echoed loudly in the room.

Voldemort's lips moved again. Three years ago, when worst had come to worst, Harry, along with Ron and Hermione and another handful of wanna-be Aurors on a mission, had spent weeks learning to lip-read. The ability to understand each other without sound had saved their lives more often than Harry could count.

"What do you want, Harry?" Voldemort spelled out, slowly, and there was a glint in his eye, like he was enjoying every second of this.

Harry had made sure he didn't get much company down here. The less Voldemort knew, about anything, the safer the world was, he thought. It didn't make him feel better about himself. "I want you to stop," he said. He would never have come if he hadn't felt forced to; he would have lived happily never seeing Voldemort again. But that was not in the cards, it seemed. For a second, Harry allowed his thoughts to wander to Ron, and what he'd say if he knew Harry was here.

"He'd probably be very disappointed in you," Voldemort mouthed.

Harry returned his bland stare. "It won't be a problem once I've explained everything."

"Do you think he'll accept it? Do you really think so? Because I have to tell you, Harry -," Voldemort didn't even need to pronounce the name to make it seem like a caress, "He does love those children very much. What would he say if he knew you were endangering them all by keeping this secret from them for so long?"

Harry snorted. "Your little mind-games won't work on me. I know what I know. And anyhow, what danger would that be? Don't forget, I'm the one controlling that mind-link now."

"Are you?" Voldemort smiled dangerously. "So why are you here?"

"You're never going to get the control over it back," Harry told him, voice hard. "So stop tugging."

Voldemort's smile grew more pronounced. "Ah, that did get your attention, then, did it?"

"Yes," Harry ground out. "I'm warning you. Those glimpses you're seeing now? That's nothing im comparison to what I'll make you see if you don't leave me alone."

"And what would that be?" Voldemort asked almost lazily.

Harry stared into his eyes, unblinking. "Try again and you'll find out."

He'd noticed how tense Voldemort's body had become; now Voldemort relaxed against the cool ground, shoulders dropping. He was still an astonishing figure, even sitting down. But he was also pale, haggered, starved half to death. It was no better than he deserved, but while the logical part of Harry'ss brain told him that Voldemort was no human being, his conscience still managed to speak up that this was no way to treat a dog, never mind a conscious, thinking creature.

"Threats," Voldemort said, fingers drumming against the floor. "Interesting, considering our positions."

"It wasn't a threat," Harry said. "It was a promise."

"Ah. And of course, you don't break those."

"I don't."

"I'll make you a deal, Harry."

"No deals." Harry took a step back, ready to go. "You've heard what I had to say. Every time you tug from now on, disrupting a perfectly lovely day, every time you try to make me even remember that you still exist, miserable existence that it is, I'll make you wish you were in hell instead of at my mercy!" Harry bared his teeth, angry.

"I'll make you a deal, Harry," Voldemort said, as if he hadn't heard at all. "I'll stop trying to get your attention in such barbaric manner as invading your brain every once in a while -"

"I don't make deals with you."

"- and in return, you answer one question for me."

Harry stopped in midturn. He'd been ready to leave. He knew he shouldn't listen to this. He knew Voldemort was screwing with his head, trying to confuse him, to make him lose control - not that it was possible for Voldemort to win back what he'd lost. But that wasn't the point. Harry had grown to learn over the past few years that sometimes, no Dark Lord was needed at all to conquer someone - sometimes, he was his own worst enemy.

"The question, young Harry, is a simple one."

Harry swallowed. And yet, he couldn't leave. His feet refused to move. He swallowed again, turned fully back. "What is it?"

Voldemort smiled, dirtily victorious. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why, on that day at Hogwarts in your final year... you were ready for it, I could feel it. Why did you change your mind? Why didn't you kill yourself? It would have ended everything. After your death, one of your minions could have led your army against my Death Eaters and finished it."

Harry returned his gaze steadily. Truly, he'd never expected Voldemort to understand. Voldemort probably wouldn't, even if he did lay it all out, but he wasn't going to. "It's enough that _I_ know why," he said. "But it was a good reason, the best one. And I don't regret my decision for one second."

His heart was a little lighter, and his mind a little more free when he left; he felt like he'd just gained another inch of the rope.

 

~*~

 

Slowly, Harry took off Ron's shirt, button by button, kissed his way down his stomach while his fingers worked on his fly. It was sweet, a little bit hasty as they pressed together, rushed words before they fell into their bed and Harry pushed a kiss onto Ron's lips, gently caressing his abdomen.

"What's with the passion today, Harry?" Ron laughed, running a hand through Harry's black hair, pulling him down into another kiss, more tongue this time, less panting.

"Sh," Harry said. "I'm seducing you."

"Just on time, too," Ron said, and with an easy move toppled them and flipped, so that Harry landed on his back, Ron hovering above him, staring down into his eyes. "Now, spill."

"Hm?"

"What did you do? Just tell me. You know I'm going to find out."

Harry grinned. "Actually, you probably wouldn't -"

"- so there is something?" Ron drew back for a second, stared. "You're serious?"

"You weren't?" Harry's face fell.

"I was kidding. You looked so determined, I thought maybe a joke would loosen you up. What's going on?"

Harry sat up, embarrassed. That much for his seduction techniques. "It's nothing," he tried to weasel out of it, even though he knew already that it would be pointless. Once Ron caught a scent, he was impossible to shake off. "I didn't even want to tell you until after."

"After what? After sex?" Ron frowned. "Nice way to go, mate. Maybe we should talk about it first, and then I can decide whether you still deserve it?"

"Ron..."

"Don't 'Ron' me, Harry; with that tone of voice? Now I know something's seriously wrong, you only use that graveyard tone when someone's died. Or is it something else? Did you cheat on me with that annoyingly good-looking mailman? Because I've seen him waltz around shirtless before our door a few days ago. I know he's up to something."

Harry rolled his eyes and igored Ron's inquiring look. Instead, he took a deep breath, fell back into his pillow. "I went to talk to him," he then admitted.

Ron's eyes grew large. He sat back. "What?"

"You heard me."

"What? Why? Why would you... Harry! If this is a joke, I have to tell you, I don't think it's funny."

"Don't look at me like that." Harry inched closer and touched Ron's cheek with his fingers. "I'm not a masochist, okay? I didn't go to make myself feel bad. I promise, I haven't lost my mind."

"Why, then?" Ron didn't flinch away from the touch, he didn't move into it either. He just looked confused and hurt.

"Not because I wanted to see Voldemort so badly, that's for sure." Harry scoffed. He sobered quickly enough when he realized Ron wasn't smiling. "It's one of those things that I haven't told anyone about."

Ron opened his mouth.

"No, please, let me explain, okay?" Harry asked. "It wasn't something that was bothering me before, but... remember the mind-link I shared with Voldemort?"

"Yes."

"Remember when I said it was gone, back when he lost his powers?"

"Harry, you didn't!"

Harry flushed deeply. "I lied. I'm sorry, I just... I didn't want you guys to worry and I have it under control anyway. Have had it since before we conquered him, it just didn't seem important -"

"Didn't seem important?" Ron glared. "Harry, _you_ are important. And everything that comes with that is therefore important. Bugger."

"I didn't mean -"

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Because it would have lessened what we'd achieved," Harry mumbled. "Because you would have all fussed, and I didn't want that. Anyway, it's not like he can do anything about it. Or anyone, really."

"So why did you go to see him?" Ron asked pointedly.

Harry hesitated.

"I swear, if you lie to me about this, I'm leaving you and taking the children." Ron sounded like he was only half-teasing. Harry hated to think about the half that sounded serious.

"You know that image of a game of tug-of-war I always use?"

"What about it?"

"Well, I'm holding pretty much the whole rope. But he still has the other end, and he can tug, once in a while. Which isn't dangerous - Ron, don't look at me like that, I'd never put you or the kids in danger, you know that!"

"I know," Ron sighed. "I know. But it bothers you enough to make you go visit him in what's-its-name back-street thingy?"

"I thought it might be worth a try to get it to stop," Harry admitted.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And did you manage to convince him?" Ron sounded wary.

"Not... exactly."

Ron raised both eyebrows. "Which means?"

"He wanted me to answer a question. He... he wanted to know why I didn't sacrifice my life, at Hogwarts, in our final year, when I had the chance to end it all."

Ron waited a few beats, then nodded thoughtfully. "Fair question." He looked into Harry's eyes for a while, realizing Harry probably hadn't told Voldemort. He cocked his head. "So you want to tell me? Why you didn't? I know I never asked because I know how you hate to talk about that time, but I was curious, when we found out about you being a Horcrux later."

Harry smiled, slid close enough so that they sat side by side on the bed. He pressed their bodies together, seeking out the warmth while he tried to explain his reasons.

"It just seemed so pointless. Like, it's been four years, and it still seems pointless. I've never believed death could be the only solution to something. And so when I thought about it, I realized that sacrificing myself wasn't why my parents had given their lives. They died so I could have a life, a full, from baby to old man kind of life. And anyway, we still managed to destroy all the Horcruxes -"

"- but you're still left," Ron said, holding up his hands when Harry opened his mouth. "Don't get me wrong, I love that you're here. I love you, I love every second more I get to spend with you."

"We caught him," Harry said. "I knew we would. It was the one thing I felt so sure about, that in the end, we'd be able to do that, if we all put our minds to it. And there wouldn't even have to be any killing on our part."

"And it's the ultimate revenge," Ron said, wondering. "That he has to endure the immortality he wished for magic-less, while you get to live with me and the kids, and everyone you love."

Harry beamed at him happily.

"But you'll die," Ron said softly. "In the end, everyone does."

Harry's smile widened. "Yes. I will. And there will be nothing to stop him from dying anymore either. No Harry Potter, and no Voldemort. My brilliant masterplan worked out well."

Ron grinned. "Watch out, mastermind, or I'll start calling you Hermione. Come here." He pulled Harry close, kissing him on the mouth. "God, I love you. For making such a selfish decision back that day, you sure as hell did it out of the most selfless reason."

"What?"

"Yeah. You made so many people happy by not dying!"

Harry snorted. He took a deep breath, then, relieved and wondered why he'd been so afraid to talk about this. He should have known if anyone would understand, it would be Ron. "I love you, too," he said sheepishly.

"Ah, now he comes out and says it!" Ron laughed. "You just remembered what I said about the sex, didn't you?"

"Oh, shut up, I didn't."

 

~*~

~~ _written in December 2007_


End file.
